I Finally Let You
by PassionandPromise
Summary: Robert has always been a shadow, a spirit to the corridors of MSA. He cant remember why, or how it happened, but he desparately wishes he was real again, real so that he could meet the girl who hides behind others and refuses to shine. Maybe, he just wishes she could see him, so that he could fall in love with her...
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:** Every fanfic writer gets it: the occasional idea that comes from nowhere and inspires them to write something else to what they began writing. Yeah... it just happened to me. All this week, instead of finishing off **Sorrows** (which i will inform people, is ALMOST done) I wrote the whole fic of** I Finally Let You**... Yup, I am a sad excuse for tdoing ten things at the one time... but, this just GOT me, and I was bitten by the fanfic bug!

I hope you guys like this: it is a sort-of AU, with elements from **Step Up 2** and some original ideas of my own. It is... different, to say the least, but I genuinely hope you like it, and where it goes. Angst, hurt/comfort and loads of depression ahead, but there is a -maybe!- sweet ending! Thanks for taking the time to read this, and please leave a review- if it doesn't go too well, I wont finish it here, and will leave it.

Thanks guys, love you lots!

_PassionandPromise_

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**Chapter One**

He sat at the top of the pillar overlooking the crowds of students milling the halls of MSA. His legs dangled over the tops of the lockers below, and he let a stray strand of curly hair block his vision temporarily before he swatted it away behind his ear. It was interesting, he noted, to watch them in their daily lives, acting, dancing, performing, creating, and he was left behind. It was interesting, as he knew they couldn't see him.

They never would. But that was okay.

He shrugged his shoulders at the thought, and continued to watch as a group of students, girls among boys, laughing and cheering as they walked into the dance hall, where they would perform until after hours. He knew they were performing for the Streets, and that they were getting ready for the battle of their lives against the formidable team known as the 410. The girl that led them in was smiling as one of the boys, Chase, he knew, cracked a joke.

It was like being surrounded by the world, and yet being left behind by each and every human being, with no-one to wait for you, and no-one to care for you. He was stranded, and he knew he wouldn't be able to do anything about it, simply because he didn't know why he was here in the first place.

He shifted his free hands into his pockets as he shuffled back into the wall lying snuggly behind him. He was waiting for something to happen, he just didn't know what. He was waiting, like he had been these past few months, and he didn't know why. He saw shadows, those human beings, shuffle through their lives, and felt himself waiting for someone, for something, to turn and say- _Here, do you want a hand?_

But no-one could see him and help him. He was a ghost, and he had no idea why. He couldn't remember what happened, except for all those flashing lights, and screaming voices. He could only see flashes of faces he couldn't quite place, and being afraid, so very afraid, of what would come next. And now, as he watched the world file out of the buildings doors and into the real life that waited for them beyond this one, he heard the beat of music thrum through the dance hall, and felt a prick of loneliness as he knew those kids in that room would be dancing, barking jokes, and making memories, and yet, he wouldn't.

He would be left behind once an hour or two was up, and they had left, and he would roam the corridors, waiting for school to begin once more.

A door banged far off in the distance, and there was a squeaking of sneakers against the tiled floor. A muffled girl's voice sang through the air, and Robert looked up, taking his hands out of his pockets. He craned his head to the vast expanse of the floor below, feeling very much the guardian of the school, as underneath him, he saw a girl in a shirt and skirt dropped the books she carried in her hands. Another set of muffled curses unfolded from her mouth, and although he couldn't see her face, he could imagine what she would look like. Brown hair, shaped perfectly around a sweetened and round face.

He watched her as he picked up her books, and almost held his breath as he saw the strap of her bag come undone from her shoulder just as she finished picking up her books. Everything dropped in one go, and she swamped to the floor in a sigh. Around them, he could hear the beat of _I Wont Dance _courageously fill the background. Swiftly, he combed his hands through the air, like he would through her hair if he was ever blessed enough to try.

Like magic, the books gathered themselves up into a neat pile, and her bag shifted up her shoulder, like someone was pulling it up onto her from behind. Immediately, the girl jumped, and looked over her shoulder, trying to make out the mysterious magician. He stayed where he sat, unable to move, his mouth open at the sight of those creamy brown eyes as they gazed at her surroundings.

She seemed to radiate a warmth from her, all chocolate brown and sweet. Her shoulders hunched as she shivered and he almost smiled. Everyone always shivered when he helped them like that. Days of being in this school taught him that.

"Who is there?" she said softly, just as she slowly looked up, to just above the lockers, and above that again, to where he sat, high up in the air. He watched her, silent, wishing with such a desparate need, that he could be real, as real as she, and that he could answer, speak his name. He hunched his own shoulders when she continued to stare upward, like as if awestruck by the beauty of the architecture above her head.

He wanted to be in front of her, to say hello.

He wanted to be her friend.

Maybe the loneliness shone through, but as he closed his eyes and gritted his teeth against the wetness he felt on his cheeks, she seemed to gasp slightly, words on her lips, but not quite making it to her ears, or to his.

_And that's why  
I won't dance, why should I?  
I won't dance, how could I?  
I won't dance, merci beaucoup  
I know that music leads the way to romance,  
So if I hold you in my arms, I won't dance_

He could feel himself shudder into the background, against his will. He hated when that happened. He hated it when he felt his body betray him and fall away into nothingness, and he had to leave her behind.

It was almost like she could see him just as he disappeared into the darkness, the music playing between them, like the bridge he'd always so badly wished to create.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

He watched the dancers, all filing out in groups of threes in a triangular pattern, twirling gracefully through the air like hummingbrids just as they landed on the wooden floor with a soundless twitter of their feet. It was as if they were made to sing in the air, they were made to fly, not root themselves to the ground like stones to dirt. He sat against the wall of mirrors with eyes wide open, mouth formed in a gentle O as he saw them all line up for the final canon, the final declaration of who they were as human beings, before they bowed in semi-circular formation, and he imagined the lights, the spotlights, as they dimmed down one by one, before settling on the one girl in the middle.

Her lithe form twirled, one foot tucking under her other, her face downturned, as if afraid to look out over the make-believe audience, and he sighed when he saw her stop, and bow. Everyone clapped, and he did too, even though he knew they wouldn't hear him. He would always clap, just for them, because he knew that even if they didn't hear him, at least he would be happy to imagine that they'd turn to him, and say _Well, thanks, thank you for acknowledging what I've done._ He watched Blake as he clapped too, a smile on his face. He was pleased.

"Well, Andie, I hope there's been an improvement on last week's routine. Care to show us?" Blake turned his attention to Andie, the girl, he noticed from yesterday, who had been laughing as Chase joked with her. Robert smiled, laughing to himself, as he saw Andie take centre stage, her eyes rolling to the heavens above as the music started up, a graceful and sweeping orchestral piece that definitely was not her style.

He loved Andie, he liked the way she moved, the way she rebelled against the Director, and held her ground. She couldn't be swayed easily, and that earned Robert's respect.

Silently, he got up and stood beside her, his invisible form against her very real one, and just as Andie reached into a swerve that defied everything Blake had been trying to teach her this past week, Robert reached inside himself and started to pop and twirl against her. He swerved away from her body as she got to close, but he freestyled as well as her, and enjoyed it even moreso when everyone began to secretly smile against Blake's frown.

Feel the music, let it carry you to that place where you cannot be touched,

he softly whispered against his lips, and he breathed in as he closed his eyes, letting the classical piece touch upon something more upbeat, a remix of what could have been playing over the speakers. He wondered if Andie heard what he did, and supposed she probably did: where else would that jerky hip movement to the right have come from if he had been planning on going straight to the left?

Blake cut the music off with a sharp click on his tongue. Andie stopped straightaway, and Robert felt a tip of annoyance in his laboured breath as he watched Blake with studied eyes. The guy loved his routine, his step by step, but truth be told, while that was pretty and sparkly to look at, free-styling and the feeling it brought to an audience, to a nation, to the world, was more important, and involved a lot more than previously learned material.

You had to feel it in order for it to let it take you away. You had to understand the music owned you just as much as you owned it, and without that common knowledge, it was useless to even try perfecting those plain twirls in ballet, or those head spins in hip-hop. Music was useless, unless you knew how to speak to it, and let it speak to you.

He gripped his hands, as Blake gave out to her, spoke down to her, but still she couldn't be swerved, and Robert smiled, knowing it would take a lot more than that in order for her to be taken down.

He sat down against the mirror again and waited until she sat back down, a smirk on her face. She crossed her legs, and Robert smiled, before he moved his hand toward the speakers, and on came a remix, the crooning voice of _Fancy Footwork_ blaring out jokingly against the sudden giggle of the students who sat on the floor. Andie looked around her, surprised, as the speakers weren't blaring anything like it beforehand.

Blake turned to the Player, staring at it with a look of horror on his face, and Robert continued to laugh, until the door to the dance hall opened, and in walked that girl from yesterday. Her hair flew out around her like a curtain, as she stopped running, nearly tripping over her own feet as she came to a full stop in front of the entire class. Her face had the class giggling again, and Andie smiled to her, waving a hand. Robert watched her, as he pulled his knees up and let the _Fancy Footwork _come to a fast halt, the music dying as suddenly as it had begun.

"You're late, Camille," Blake noted, the first to speak among the speechless crowd, and Camille nodded wordlessly, before she stuck a hand into the pile of books she carried, and walked over to him.

"I had to go to the dentist," she explained, giving the note to him. She fidgeted with her hands as she placed her books and bag down at the end of the classroom, only a few feet away from where Robert sat staring at her. He nestled back down into a comfortable position. He didn't know she danced.

"Are you ready to perform, then? Please say you wont disappoint me, after Andie the rebel decided to strike a freestyle my poor brain will never forget," Blake dramatically said, fishing his eyes on Andie, who smiled sweetly back at him. Robert sniggered. This would be interesting.

"Um, yeah, I think so," Camille blubbered, her hands still fidgeting as she clasped them to her chest. She turned to face the mirror wall, and Robert sat forward, allowing a few strands of unruly curls to slip forward and block his vision. She couldn't see him, but he, oh how he wanted to see her.

The music bounced into life, classical again, and he fought the nerve to roll his eyes when he saw Blake smile triumphantly at the fact that the Player was working perfectly again. Camille closed her eyes, and began a strict routine, her body allowing it to go where it should, performing twirls and her feet flying gracefully to the sky as she turned through the air. It was all thought out, all perfect and in sync. It was, Robert thought, something Blake would be proud of. The music swelled in sound, building and building, and Camille flowed with it all, allowing it to overtake and fill her, until her body swayed on the spot, hands suddenly flying out from where they should have stayed, and her hair came out from where it should have stayed, behind her head.

Suddenly, the music began a drum roll, completely out of sync with the music. She turned, coming closer and closer to Robert, and he tried to jerk back, to fall in behind the mirror, like he always seemingly used to. But it was no use. For some reason, his usually see-through body wouldn't let him. She swerved and swerved, her body bouncing to the rhythm, her fingers flying out as she jumped, pulling her whole body outward, she pushed back her head, before she collapsed right at his feet, right in front of the mirror, her whole body slumped against the floor as the music suddenly died out.

Her body shuddered as she suddenly tried to sit up, shaking from the feeling he saw her so suddenly put into it, and cautiously, without warning, Robert stepped forward, until he was right over her. He couldn't touch her, she wouldn't feel it, and chances were, he wouldn't feel it either, but he wanted to see her, as close as he could, and when she looked up to the mirror, her eyes travelled straightaway to him, to where he sat beside her.

She squeeled, jumping backward, her heart thudding in her mouth as she breathed fast. She stared at him, and Robert stared back, a hand out as if to touch her. For just that blissful second, he thought he was real. He thought she could see him, as clear as day. She stared at him, and continued to stare at him, even as he brushed a hand through his hair, awkwardly embarrassed, and unknowing as to what to say.

He opened his mouth to say something, and lost his voice as the chatter of the class grew. He wanted to swelter out of her line of vision, make it out that she had only seen her own shadow or something, but this one time, his body betrayed him, and stayed put. So, he tried again, he spoke, his voice low, scared, hoping, _wishing_, **needing** for this to be real.

"Can you see me?"

She breathed out, a strand of hair flying in front of her face just as Blake came up to stand beside her, and offer her a hand to sit up. She took it without looking away from him, and continued to watch him as she stepped up onto the wooden floor. Blake was saying something, but they both couldn't hear it, they were so intent on staring each other into a set of tiny, million fragments.

"Yes," she breathed, soft, low, and sweet, her voice like honey. Robert couldn't believe it, he genuinely couldn't believe it. His hands shivered from where they were placed by his sides, as he stayed sitting on the floor, where she once was. He opened his mouth, unsure as to what to say, before he felt a smile tug on his lips, the first one he'd ever truly had in what felt like... years? His heart sang with joy, and the full blast of his smile, shy and sweet, shone through, just as he shrugged, and he stood up.

He could feel himself fading now, feel her still watching him as she walked away. He was still smiling, and he looked down to the ground, hands in pockets, feeling the best he ever had in months. Finally, for the first time in his afterlife, for the first time ever, he felt like he was someone. He felt noticed.

He_ felt _real.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three**

_"You know what?, you're lovely  
You know what?, you're so lovely  
And, oh, what you do to me  
I'm like an ocean wave that's bumped on the shore  
I feel so absolutely stumped on the floor..."_

Robert's hands shuffled as he watched the crew dance, their faces covered in sweat, their bodies moulding into a repetitive clay model of what they would perform in the final of the Streets. He had to say, he loved what they were doing, and the Prank? He thought Chace's idea of fooling the 410, was just about the craziest thing he'd ever heard of. He'd never met the 410 before, as he could never seem to step outside of MSA's ground, however what he'd heard about them, he knew they were a match made to the living, and he prayed the guys would win. They deserved it more than anything.

They deserved it more than the world.

He walked alongside the guy called Monster, and began to pop beside him, enjoying the fun they were having, and he pretended he was just one of them, just as they were about to hit into their finale. Suddenly, the music stopped, and Robert looked up to see Andie, one hand combing through her hair. She looked troubled.

"I don't know. It feels like we're missing something," she said, biting the inside of her lip. Chase walked up to her, his face just as creased with concern as hers was.

"I think so too, but I cant think of anything else we could use to add to the piece. We've used everyone here, and everyone's put so much into it," Chase said, hands coming out from his folded chest.

_You didn't use me, _Robert thought silently, like a whisper, when he thought of that girl from yesterday. She threw herself at the floor, and told him she could see him. _She told him she could __see him__._ He wondered if she was still around the school, since it finished only a half hour ago, then thought better of it, knowing she had much better things to do than go find a boy she might have just made up in her mind.

Robert bit his lip, as the crew in front of him battered on about various things they could try, various skills they could learn and use, when he looked up, and resolutely decided. He waved his hand in the air, and the lights went dim, as if someone had thrown the switch. Immediately, curses among other colourfully posed sentences flew into the air as the crew looked to the ceiling, as if it would have an explanation for what had occured, even though their answer was just on the ground, right in front of them.

They needed another member. They needed someone else, and he knew she would be perfect for this. In fact, he knew she would love being a part of a group. From watching the way the class laughed at her arrival yesterday, it looked like she hardly had any friends, and he wanted her to make some, a group who would watch her back. He had a feeling she would like that very much.

He knew that with no power, the group wouldn't be able to do much, and reluctantly, they left, one by one, until the room was clear, and the building was silent. He waited until they left the steps leading down to the path onto the street, before he switched them back on. The second one light brightened the room, the speakers started to work again, and a new song played over them. He laughed, knowing the song very well.

_"Bounce..." _Timbaland's bassy voice filled the speaker and the room, as throaty breath filled the air and the bass pumped to its full volume. Robert was in the middle of the floor, and he was popping, turning, swerving, using his feet to move from side to side as his hands found his pockets. This was what he was meant to be doing, this was where he felt free.

He let the turntable squeak as the next verse came in, a repetition of before, and then he launched himself into a new freestyle, something he never done before. He could imagine it, see it all before his eyes: the crowded darkness, and the rain that would pelt the crew's shoulders, and in the middle of the dancefloor, someone would bounce, and command the crew on the floor to feel the beat, to follow his rhythm, his time. He stopped himself before he got carried away.

He almost thought that he could do that, he almost thought that he could dance with them.

Something smacked against the wall, just outside the room, and Robert shot down the volume with a click of his fingers. Was someone breaking in? The janitors were still in, he could hear the sounds of far off hoovers playing their squeaks to the shiny floors above. He waited, before he heard a male voice, followed by another, and another, their laughter filling the corridors. Another bang, and Robert walked toward the wall, before he fell through and into the corridor where the sound was coming from.

He turned around, wondering if maybe he was hearing things, when he caught sight of a few guys from the class earlier yesterday, and Camille, her body cowering in a corner, down on the floor. She had put her hands upon her head, and the three guys that towered over her were leering jokingly. Robert stopped, wondering what in heck was going on.

"-just wanted to tell you we liked your moves, and we wanted you to-"

"Yeah, come hang out with us more often. We really, really like you, you know, Camille-"

"And we wanna have fun, you know-"

Realisation dawned on him when he saw what they meant._ They _pushed her to the floor. They were trying to- He bit his lip, anger filling his frame, and he stepped forward, just as Camille tried to find her feet. She shouldn't have been here this late after hours. Why on earth was she here, when she should've been home?

"Please, just go away," she murmured, softly, afraid to raise her voice above monotone. He could tell by the way she angled her body, the way she wouldn't look each of those idiots directly in the eye, that she was easily made fun of, easy to pick on. Easy to bully.

_Too soft-hearted,_ he mused, just as one of the guys put a foot down where she was above to move her hand to in order to get up. Camille jumped, and looked up to see him smiling, and evil grin marking his monstrous face. She looked ready to cry, and that was it for Robert. Before the guy even spoke, Robert flinged out his hands.

He couldn't actually touch those creeps, but he could as sure as hell scare the shit out of them. Before any of them had time to turn, all the lockers in the hall flung out from their rusty hinges, and they started to bang open and closed, rattling the echoes in the corridor they were in. Each of the guys jumped, and Camille looked up from where she sat, and saw him standing a few feet away, his body rigid straight, his bloody eyes watching those creeps as they stepped back from Camille. He looked to her, and motioned for her to move, to get behind him.

Without second thought, she got up and flung herself away from them, her hands flying out. She slid her feet behind Robert, and turned to see the backs of the three guys who were after her. They were running as fast as her heart was thumping, and she sighed when she heard the slamming of the entrance doors to the school. She came to slide down the wall and found that she was shaking from fright. Her hands gripped themselves into balls by her sides as she stared at the tiled floor in front of her.

Something wavered over her head, and she looked up to see the semi-invisible boy from earlier, his curly hair in front of his warm eyes as he tilted his head down to her. He kneeled down in front of her, one hand coming out to touch her, before it shied away, and he swallowed. Now he was so close, she could see brown eyes, as brown as hers, only darker, more like wooden chocolate. The grey pullover he wore covered his wiry frame down to his thighs, and a pair of black trousers could be seen underneath them again. He looked well-dressed, as if he was heading out somewhere fancy for the night.

He looked real to her.

_"You okay, Camille?" _he asked softly, his voice warm. It sent shivers down her spine.

"I'm fine, thanks," she shuddered, before she smiled. "Thank you for helping me. Really, thank you." Robert held out his hand again, and she looked at it, before she hesitatingly put out her own to take his. Of course, her hand went right through his, but for just that slight second, with him hovering over her, with his eyes on her, she felt that touch, the slip of skin on his wrist just tipping her fingers. It was like silk, barely there, but real.

_"Robert,"_ he said slowly, chuckling, his smile twinkling, as his hand came back to ruffle his hair. This couldn't honestly be happening to him. He was speaking to her, having a actual conversation with her. She was speaking to him, and she wasn't running away. Her mouth formed a tight line as she tried not to smile.

"Camille, but you know that-um," she started, before her eyebrows knotted together, trying to phrase what she was about to say. Outside, the sky was darkening, and the lights were starting to come on. He could feel the time when the school would be closed was nearing. "I-I was wondering, are- are you real, or am I just-"

She shook her head, laughing. "Y-You are real, you're here, you stopped them- you-" She fidgeted with her fingers, and Robert knelt closer to her, putting see-through hands against her small shoulders. She shivered underneath them, looking down to the ground.

Maybe, he thought sadly, Maybe it would be better not to. Maybe it would be better not to be here, not to be near her. She was probably in shock, and he had no doubt she had trouble believing what had happened. He'd be the same, if he was in her shoes. Heck, he might've run a mile, if he'd seen what she saw for the first time.

_"Look, go home," _he said, a gentle, yet heart-breaking smile on his face. _"Go home, and forget about this. It's okay, everything's fine. Those boys wont bother you after what happened, I promise. You'll be fine, and I wont... I wont come near you anymore, okay? I promise, I'll stay away." _His voice wavered in and out, and she looked up to him. He looked like someone who went and broke himself in two. He looked sad, scared, and alone.

He looked like her, when no-one was watching her.

She leaned forward, and spoke in a low voice, so quiet that he wasn't sure he'd heard it. "I promise, you aren't alone. You're just waiting for something to happen, I know it. You're just waiting for someone to take you home." It felt like the right thing to say, even though she hardly knew him. He let his hands fall away from her shoulders, as if they were touching her in the first place. He stared at her, his eyes not knowing where to look, and she looked back, defiant, ready, waiting for an answer.

Instead, he just smiled as he fell away into the darkness. In answer, in softly heard whispers that chorused through the building like breezes that were never heard, but always felt, he said, _"How do you know that, when I've got __**nowhere**__ to go to?"_

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**_A/N:_ **N'awww! I just wanna give him a hug! x/X

Thanks guys for the reviews and the favs and the follows! Love you all!

xoxox


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four**

He gazed out the window, dwelling on the picture of the outside world, the picture perfect faces of children playing basketball across the street, the cautious cars as they swung out through the thickening traffic, and finally, the young couple who walked, hand in hand, smiles on their easygoing faces. They looked so happy together.

He looked away from the window, wondering what to do when there was nothing to do. Nobody ever visited the school on a Saturday, not even the janitors. They came on Sunday evenings, grumbling about the speed with which the weekend came and went. Of course, they always believed no-one could hear them when they gave out, but there Robert was, listening in to their conversations, their hushed whispers as loud as the catcalls of the students in the mornings and evenings.

A light flashed in his eyes when he thought of the choreography for the piece he believed the MSA crew were missing. MSA crew, he chuckled. Yeah that sounded just right. He could always teach Cam- Whoa, he stopped himself. He couldn't. He wasn't allowed to go near her, not anymore. Not now, not ever.

He paced himself, as he turned dejectedly away from the window. He couldn't go near her anymore, and so, he couldn't interact with anyone again. No-one, he noted, had ever seen him before, not like she had. No-one ever noticed the ghost who prowled the corridors late into the night, and stalked them every morning when the students believed they were alone.

He swallowed, and sighed. He couldn't have a friend, even though he so badly wanted one. If there was nobody here for him, then who was? Why was he here? Why did he get placed here, when he should've been off, in that "other place" people went to when they died?

He started walking from room to room through thick walls. When he found himself in the dance hall, he easily clicked his fingers by his side and the familiar sound of _Bounce _filled the room once again. Popping, and twisting from one side to the other, tipping an imaginary hat upward and flipping it through the air, he pretended it landed on the ground far from him, and he continued to circle and bounce through what he believed would be some kind of a wet floor. Just in this minute, he forgot about the black ache of loneliness in his chest. All he could think was that he was one of the MSA crew, that he was helping them, that somehow, he could be one of them.

He stopped when he heard the unmistakeable sound of elecricity cutting out, and the room was filled with silence. Breathing heavily, he turned toward the Player, and saw the shape of a small girl with long brown hair stare right back at him. She didn't speak, only took a step toward him. Robert was so caught off by this, that he stepped away. How the hell did she get here? How could she be here when the school was locked up?

He took another step back. _"You shouldn't be here, Camille," _he whispered. _"The cops-"_

"The school is open. Teachers conferance. I wanted to come here, and talk to you," she gestured to him, tilting her head forward. Robert turned and walked away.

_"You don't have to talk to me, honestly," _he spoke so fast, too quickly for her to understand. She walked, following him, dropping the plug. _"Please, just go home."_

_I don't want to hurt you_, he tried to add, but the thought of it only made him feel worse.

"Can you just stop, and hear me out, please?"

He stopped, just as he was about to go through the closed door. He tilted his head over his shoulder. She stood there, her shoulders hunched, her eyes wide. She watched him, his near see-through body in a firmly real universe.

"Thank you for saving me yesterday. And-" she stopped, before she started again, "And I was wondering if you'd hang out with me, during school." Robert knotted his eyebrows together.

_"You do realise I'm... I'm a ghost, right? If anyone were to see that you spoke to air, I think they'd run a mile to the principal,"_ he stated, chuckling at the end of the sentence. He put his hands in his pockets, peering down into Camille's wide eyes. _"Don't do that for me, just becuase you want to thank me. I'd do it anytime, any day for anyone. And don't worry, I'll watch your back, if you're worried." _Her shoulders slumped.

"I-I don't want that," she shook her head softly. "I just want us to be friends, because I don't have any, and you're a good person." If there was ever a sign that Robert had made someone cry, it was this. Her shoulders shivered, and she looked down to the ground, but before she done so, a single sliver of silver slid down her cheek. Robert jumped.

_"Hold on, Camille- Oh God, oh, um-" _he scratched the back of his head, worrying about how to deal with this, and as he reached out a hand to touch her chin, to tilt her head up, he felt a shock of something run through him.

For just a split second, he thought he heard the sound of a heart monitor, a single beep.

He pulled back, watched as she looked slowly up to him. "Did you hear-"

No, he shook his head fast, his curls flying out like a mask around his face. No, he didn't hear what he thought he heard. It couldn't have been.

"Oh, okay," she sighed and looked back down to her feet, biting her lips. "How-" she pointed to the Player at one corner of the room, trying to dismiss the subject. "-how do you do that, you know, switch the song and put on your favourites?" Robert looked at her, before he fixed his eyes on the Player, and on came _Let's Go _by Ne-Yo and Calvin Harris. Even without the plug stuck in the wall, the music still played, the bass thumping as loud as Robert moved his head from one side to the other, trying to cheer her up.

She laughed. "Your hair!" she pointed to it as it moved comically from one side to the other as he pumped his head while he kept his body stock still. "You must fill it with so much mouse for it to be so curly."

_"Hm, thanks," _he joked in reply. _"Maybe I'll curl it more often for you, little lady." _She chuckled, a hand going to her mouth, before she turned away from him. _"What? You aren't going to dance with me, Cammie?" _She looked over her shoulder, before she groaned and swivelled into a full pirhouette in front of him.

He bounced, clutching a hand to his heart, about to fall, and then popped his chest and flew back up, turning back to her, pointing a finger in her direction, waiting for her to follow up. She grinned, before she held both hands out and cartwheeled, turning full circle and bowing into the splits, before she used both her hands to propel her up onto her feet, popping her chest, and bringing both her hands out as if to topple him over. In retaliation, Robert swerved and started to going full into it, popping, turning, breathing the dance he immersed himself in. Camille jumped and circled around him, placing a mock hand on his chest as she done so, before he held out a hand to her, and closed his eyes, imagining that he was able to touch her, able to feel her skin under his.

He jolted back from his reverie when he felt another shock, and another beep. The longer he tried to touch her, the more he felt some link, like a deep connection trying to root itself in his being. He pulled away as some Prodigy song filled the speaker with loud lyrics and even deeper bass.

He pulled back, like he was a robot, and jumped up, as if he was falling, before he clamped both hands and feet on the ground in one motion, pounding his hands into the ground as if trying to create a tribal, drumming beat while he felt Camille move around him, her legs sweltering under a swaying movement. After two seconds, he came back up, and twisted himself, before he pushed his hand down to her, and she caught herself, bowing back as far as she could, trying to prevent herself from being touched by him. The look in her eyes was comical, and she held back a smile as Robert looked into her eyes with the most serious expression on his face.

After a moment, he smiled and started to laugh. He was enjoying this, enjoying the movement, enjoying the feeling of being here, with her. Time seemed to stop, and they looked into each others eyes.

"Not too bad, Moose," she whispered, and Robert cocked an eyebrow.

_"If I remember correctly, my name is Robert, not Moose,"_ he chuckled.

The song faded out from the background, and all he could hear was her breathing, and he saw her pulse under his fingers, the trembling of her heart. He pulled back as he heard the clearing of a throat, and both him and Camille looked up to see a group of students looking at her with a funny look on their faces.

They couldn't see him, so it did look bizarre to see someone half bowed backward, ready to turn into the bridge, while looking at the ceiling with a funny smile on her face. Immediately, Robert whispered his apologies to Camille, knowing she was embarrassed. Camille scratched the back of her head, and started to walk toward the Player just as it was about to switch to a different song, before she turned it off and turned to look each of the students in the eye.

"Um, I just wanted to come in and dance for a while, clear my head, sorry. The room's yours now-"

"That was amazing," Robert saw Andie smile, and he smiled too, laughing with what he knew was the knowledge that she would ask her if she wanted to join the crew. He looked to Camille, and said quickly-

_"Say yes, say yes, say yes!"_

"I really like your moves. You looked like you were dancing with someone else, actually," she continued, looking around her as if her partner was right in the room. The whole crew looked around with her, and they laughed. "Would you like to join our crew? Were thinking of competing in the Streets, a sort-of illegal dance competition," she joked. Camille's eyes widened, and her mouth opened in shock.

If it weren't for Robert nodding his head right beside Andie, then she would've said no straight on the spot, but instead she smiled, laughed back and said "Yes" straightaway. Robert suddenly started to pulling of Micheal Jackson tricks straight out of the hat just as everyone started to cheer.

He knew what this meant for her. He knew this meant she had friends, and that MSA would have a much better chance in fighting for the crown in the Streets. Now, they were finally a crew, a real one, and they were ready to take on the 410.

_Now_, he didn't feel so lonely anymore.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter Five**

She trained with them, reveled in their excitement, their want to dance, their need to move. She swerved when they swerved, she kicked when they kicked, she pumped when they pumped and she laughed when they laughed. Robert hung around, watching her as she learned the moves already pointed out for their piece, but by the end of the week, Andie's eyes twitched when she thought of the next part of the song they had to learn.

She threw her hands up in the air. "I've got nothing," she whispered frantically. "I cant think of what else we could do."

"We could try another set of Monster's moves to fill in as we go in for the next change," Smiles offered.

"Yeah, or we could let Camille take the floor," Kido commented, looking at the brunette with a cheerful smile. Camille smiled nervously back, suddenly fidgety.

"I'm not comfortable with dancing by myself, but I know a guy who'd be great at coming up with something else for the crew to dance to, if you want," she offered, her face alighting on Robert's as he sat at the corner of the room. He stopped, and stared at her.

"Could you bring him in?" Chase asked.

"Is he hot?" Missy jumped in, ruffling her frizzy hair.

"Um," Camille looked down at her feet, and Robert chuckled to see a fever red blush rise on her cheeks.

"Damn, he's taken," Missy stated, sitting down on the wooden floor.

"Oh, um, no he isn't," Camille replied fast, her hands flying out at her sides, as everyone took a seat in a circle in the centre of the floor. She came to sit down with them, and saw that Robert crouched down just outside of the group, watching her with what looked like sudden surprise on his face. "He isn't, taken, but he cant come into the school. He's not allowed. But-" at the dejected looks on the guys' faces, she pointed out, "I'd be more than happy to ask him about choreography, and he'd be more than happy to help, whatever way he can."

Andie looked at her carefully. "You sure he wouldn't mind? The more time that passes, the less time we have to practise, and while its possible that-"

_"Tell her she'll have it by tomorrow,"_ Robert interjected while Andie spoke, and Camille jumped.

"I know he'd have something really quickly made up for you guys, and I swear, once you see it, it'lll be amazing. I've seen what he can do. He doesn't go out much, and he barely talks to anyone, but when you see him on the floor, and all the moves he can do, it'll blow the crowds' minds." She flew her hands out from her sides, suddenly willing to defend her friend, the one who opened her to this tight group of people she'd come to love.

They shared a seat with her during break, they looked out for her when she couldn't look out for herself, and more importantly, whenever she hung around with them, Robert was never too far behind. He was always there, always watching out for them. Always making sure nothing came their way.

"If you're happy to learn the moves from this mysterious stranger, then sure, by all means," Chase said. "Let's just hope he has something good up his sleeve."

_"Don't you worry, Chase," _Camille heard Robert say, a light in his voice she hardly ever heard, _"Moose'll come up with something that will blow your mind."_

He had already come up with something. It just needed to be added to.

"Well then, I think were done for the evening," Chase stretched as Cable yawned. Missy sat up, looking at Camille, who stayed sitting where she was, smiling as everyone left. One by one, everyone walked out, chatting about the cinema, a new movie that was hitting screens, or a new dance song they were currently into.

"You locking up again, Cammie girl?" she asked and Camille shrugged. She watched her a second longer. "Do you want me to stay? I can so-"

"Oh no! It's okay, really! I'm perfectly fine here. My parents are coming to pick me up in a half hour or so, and I wouldn't want-"

"Cammie, I love you to bits! You're such a sweet girl, so I don't mind if you want me to stay," Missy added, just as Andie came over, rubbing her face with a towel she'd grown used to bringing with her to the rehersals.

"We can stay if you want, until your parents come," she said. Camille didn't know where to start. She absolutely loved how supportive they were. A week ago, and she wouldn't have had this friendship. She barely had other friends, and those she spoke to, she always had the feeling they spoke to her out of good manners, not because they wanted to get to know her. She smiled, a wide, shining one, full of light and happiness.

"It's okay guys. You get home and stuff. I kinda wanna do something by myself, if that's okay," she replied, standing up. Chase watched her, before he fiddled with his pockets and handed her the key to the front of the school.

"Guard it with your life, okay, kid? Don't let anyone touch it, go near it or find it," he said simply, like everything was sorted now. Camille took it and nodded profusedly.

"Of course I will, I swear my life on it," she said, her eyes filled with wonder. Chase nodded and smiled, before he ruffled her head, and she squeaked.

"Okay guys. I'm going home to sleep everything off, and hopefully, by tomorrow, we'll have something sorted," he called. "Thanks, Camille, for helping us." She nodded, laughing.

"No problem! Anything for you guys," she replied, adding the truth she firmly believed in. She held the keys tight, like a promise, and Robert watched her, a soft smile tugging on his lips. She was so happy, and that made him happy too. It made him believe he'd given her what he'd always wanted, and she was happy, because she always wanted it too.

"Right! See you tomorrow!" Everyone waved to her, and she waved back, as the dance hall went quiet, and the far off sounds of the front door of the building closing rang in her ears.

"They really are so nice," she said softly to him, and he shrugged.

_"I wish I could have that,"_ he replied, watching her, as she turned to him. _"That friendship, that belief that you can always be counted on, that no matter what, you're there for them, that you're real."_

"You are real, Moose," she replied. "You're real to me." He smiled, looking down to the floor, a faint blush rising up his neck.

_"Oh stop, Chameleon,"_ he joked, his voice lilting gently. He scratched the back of his neck awkwardly._ "Now you're got me all in a twist." _She laughed, before she walked over to him, a serious twinkle in her eye.

"Really? I have you in a twist? Considering you have to come up with a dance I have to copy for the others tomorrow, and you say you're in a twist?" she made to poke him, and he pretended he could feel it, jumping back and rubbing his side with a face of mock horror.

_"You poke too hard, Cammie girl," _he said. _"Don't bruise this sexy body, please."_

"Oh of course, Mr Sexy," she sighed, shaking her head.

_"You agree that I'm sexy?"_

"No, I don't."

_"But you're blushing!"_

"That is not blushing, you idiot."

_"Are you sure? I know that a red face equals someone's blushing, and you most definitely are blushing, Camille Gage!"_

She placed both her hands on her face, trying to cover herself, and turning away from him, a sharp ring of laughter on her lips. He laughed, listening to her.

_"I think it's cute,"_ he said softly, a smile on his lips, and Camille turned back to him, watching him as he rubbed his neck, and looked away, before he gazed back into her eyes, a soft twinkle there, of something-

_"Now, the dance!" _He clicked his finger, and on came a song Camille recognised instantly. Something by Timbaland, she knew, and seconds later, she began to sweat as Moose showed her the ropes of the dance he was choreographying. She followed, and done her best with the pops, locks, the shuffles and the hand throws. Moose could move, and she desparately wished she didn't volunteer him, considering she had so much to learn.

She gasped for air when he went into the third set, just as the song was reaching its bassy bridge. She held a hand up to him. "Please, have mercy!" Moose looked over his shoulder to see her slumped on the floor, her arms and legs splayed wide, and her face contorted into a look of pain.

_"Jeez," _he walked over to her. He should've known she'd be tired after the intense dancing she'd done earlier with the crew. _"I'm so sorry! You should've told me earlier, I could've just shown it to you, Camille!"_

She looked up to the obvious concern on his face as he kneeled down and smiled. "I'm not fit enough for you to teach me, master," she replied, like a wiseman, and Robert smiled at the statement. She took a second, as she sat up, and bit her lips.

_"What is it? Are you hurt?"_

"How come you cant come back?"

He stopped and stared at her, before he sighed and sat back on the floor. Through the light, she could make him out, but he was filmy, see-through. His face was soft spoken in this light, and she could barely make out the expression on his face. She could see his body, and she knew he was there, but it was like a blurry image. His checked shirt and black trousers were there, she could see them, but the skin underneath was as pale as ivory, like as if he hadn't been in the sun in years.

"I'm sorry, I don't mean to pry-"

_"I don't know how to come back," _he replied softly. _"All this time I've been here, I don't remember how I got here, I don't remember what brought me here, and I don't know what to do, 'cause I don't want to stay here for forever, which I'm worried that might be."_

"You don't remember what-" she was about to touch him, when her hand fell through his skin, and a slice of something beeped and kept beeping, a slow and uneasy tempo. She stayed where she was, and listened. It was like a heart monitor, something that squeaked, and-

He jumped away, and gasped. "You can hear that?" She pushed her hands onto where his chest would be, and heard it all again, the beeping more persistant, and the sound of laboured breath, the sound of tires squeeling, the sounds of screaming, and Moose's voice, howling with pain-

He stood up and backed away, before he tripped and landed on his back. Camille stared and stared. She lost her voice, but pointed to him, and he shied away. "You can hear that, cant you?"

He stared right back at her, his mouth open, and he shuddered. _"I've no idea what that-"_

"I thought I heard you," she whispered, and she shivered against the sound of Moose, his whole body screaming with pain. "I thought I heard a car, and saw lights, and- Moose, it was you-" She gasped, her hand flying to her mouth. Robert shook his head, more fervently this time, and this time, he shuddered against the onslaught of images that wrecked his brain.

_"You heard me? I thought only I could-"_

"No, I heard it too," she walked toward him, and she held out a hand for him to take. It was shaking, just as her shoulders were, and her eyes were wide, as if caught in the lights from on oncoming car. Robert didn't want to reach out to her, he didn't want to take her hand, because he was afraid of what would happen next. He swallowed.

_"I-I don't want to, Camille. I really don't want to," _he said, so quiet, so terrffied, that he sounded like a child, crumpled in a ball. He shuddered against the feeling he got whenever he felt that, heard that scream. Camille shook her head.

"That was you, Moose. I know that. It was you."


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter** Six**

_"No, it wasn't, it wasn't me. It couldn't be. I'm dead. I swear, I'm dead,_" a wash of tears, silver and light, fell from his cheeks. He backed away on the floor and Camille watched him helplessly. _"I'm dead, I'm dead, and I cant come back, because I don't know how-"_

"Moose-"

_"I'm dead, Camille, I'm dead,"_ he whispered. _"I am not alive, I'm not breathing, I'm buried six feet under somewhere out there, in a cemetary, in a cold place where I cant go to, because I don't know where it is, and I'm sorry, I shouldn't have come near you, I should be somewhere else, but I don't know why I'm here, I really don't, and I'm so sorry-"_

The collapse of words against the steady beat of Timbaland's music tilted the atmosphere in the room, and Camille looked around the room as it seemed to ebb and darken. Moose was making the room gloomy, and she was suddenly frightened. He continued to speak just as she heard soemthing bang outside the entrance hall. She looked over her shoulder and saw torch lights flashing outside the room.

"Moose-" she started, but he didn't hear her, and she started to feel dizzy, sick- She held a hand to her head as she watched the angry flashing lights and angry voices strob the hall outside before she took a breath and swayed. "Moose, please, stop, there's-"

Timbaland's music had come to a close in the background just as a sad melody began to fill her ears, and Camille stepped forward toward Moose just as she heard a bang from behind her. "Moose, please-"

Moose was gathered in a tight clump, and he had stopped talking, a muffled whimper escaping his lips. His shoulders were shaking, and suddenly the lights died, as Camille slumped down to the floor. She thought she was going to be sick, as a flash of heat surged up her neck, and her vision swam. Holding a hand out for Moose, she felt her fingers glance through him, just as a sharp echo behind her alerted her that there was a group of angry people behind her, in the room, with them-

She gathered herself into a ball, shivering against the pain in her head, just as she heard someone shout-

"Turn on the damn lights!"

_"Cammie? Cammie?!"_ Moose's hysterical voice rose as he saw what was happening before his eyes. Camille was going in and out of consciousness, and she twitched her fingers just as someone turned to flick on the light. A mirror was bashed in suddenly, and Camille jumped, her hand flying to her head. They were far enough away from what was happening that no one saw them, and Robert bit his lip, clicking his fingers just as the lights went on to flicker them out again.

"Damn lights were working seconds ago! Why the fuck are they-"

"Someone else is in here, messing with the equipment-"

"Let's make 'em pay for that fucking mess up with the Prank-"

Robert waved his hand angrily as he heard another mirror crash, followed by another, and the sound of spray paint swished through the dance hall. Camille looked up tiredly, her face as pale as a sheet, and he beckoned her to follow him, to crawl on her hands and knees to behind a crevice in the wall, a secret alcove along the wall would keep her safe.

She began to crawl toward it, just as she came down on her side, her hand to her side. Robert sat protectively over her, worried to do anything to the guys in case it affected her. He knew what was happening to her. As a result of his own negative energy, the waves fell on her and made her ill. It happened whenever he sat near someone who wasn't happy, who was afraid, sick, or scared.

It was the reason his trick when the boys cornered Camille worked so were afraid of what happened, and so they ran. Now she was sick, and she couldn't move without causing herself to feel dizzy.

He looked around him helplessly, and found his eyes falling on the Player. Turning his hand sideways, he cranked up the sound as far as it would go, hoping a tribal piece would play, loud and wracked with as many painful cries as he could imagine. Without a second glance at the confusion around him, he shook Camille, tapping her on the shoulder, as the group in front of them suddenly held their hands to their ears, and fell to the ground.

It was loud enough to wake the neighbourhood, but he didn't care. Let the police come, he would protect her, and he would make sure she wasn't found.

_"Come on Camille, come on come on come on, please," _he imagined a stream of healin energy folw through him and into her, and hoped she would react to it in some way, and push herself to find shelter just as the crew ran out of the dance hall, screeching in protest against the echoing sounds in their ears. Camille suddenly yelled against the sound, and he turned down the volume, hoping that the group of idiots who came in here were long gone.

She lay in a heap, her body shaking and cold from what had happened. In the dark, Robert felt himself shudder and stare. He couldn't move as she lapsed in and out of consciousness. Never in his life had he ever come across a reaction so strong. He'd never met someone so in tune with his feelings before. She was different, and she needed his help.

_"Camille, I'm so sorry, I'm really really sorry, just please can you move toward that arch there and stay behind it, please? Please, Camille, just start moving, before the cops come, please," _he kept pleading as she came around, and started crawling toward the place he wanted her to be. All he could see was her form swallow itself in the darkness as she haltingly moved toward the spot.

"What happened?" she whispered softly, shaking her head, and putting both her hands on her face as she shuddered against her breath. Robert didn't answer and instead turned to the room, which was in chaos. He gritted his teeth, before he walked toward the centre of it all. He distantly heard her babbling behind him, but knew that more serious trouble would come if he didn't do something about what lay in front of him now.

He saw the graffiti, the destroyed windows, the mirrors, broken and dishevelled, and in a sense, he could've stopped it, without having her in trouble because of it. He was just a stpuid, grovelling idiot. He wanted so badly to be a human again, he just wanted someone to listen to him and hear him. But of course, he had to let his fears get in the way. He had to let her get hurt. Now, she was stuck behind one of the arches, probably sick and dizzy out of her mind and ready to go home, never to see him again for definite this time. He gripped his hands and closed his eyes, letting a tear slide down his cheek.

He was so desparate, and when he saw what she saw, heard what she heard, he couldn't help himself. He knew what happened to him now: he was in a car crash, and he died in it. He knew he died: no-one could survive after a scream like that, so high pitched and damn terrified and in so much pain. Broken ribs, a possible fracture embedded deep in his spine, cracked skull, numbed fingers and hands, shattered legs- He didn't know what caused the pain, but he knew he'd been in a lot of it before he saw white.

He knew why he was here now, and he knew it was his job to make sure she didn't get caught for it. He held up his hands and opened his eyes, the lights coming on and the writing-

_Stay out of the Streets-_

-blaring to life under his gaze. He flicked his hands and the writing disapearred, gone as if it was never there. He flicked his hands toward the windows and they slivered themselves into place, one again with their frame. No sound could be heard, not even Camille's voice. She must've passed out by now. He sighed, clicking his fingers as he set the mirrored walls to right and with a selfless juggle of his arms he finished with the writing on the mirrors, effortlessly cleaning it off with nothing but a second glance.

There was nothing left to clean, nothing left to vanish with a flick of fingers. Everything was much the same as it had been before. He felt sapped of energy, but that was okay. Camille wouldn't be pinned for what had happened in here tonight, she would be safe.

Robert shuffled over to her, and saw her curled up in a ball behind the arch, her face calm. She was sleeping, and he smiled, glad to see that was no longer suffering from **his** pain. She was going to be fine. He walked softly to her, and in the silence around them, he kneeled down to her, right beside her face. He wanted to lie down beside her and sleep, sleep until nothing more came. He swallowed at what he really meant by his words, and shook his head.

This time, he wasn't going to appear to her. This time, he promised himself he would never dance with her, never laugh alongside her, never share anything with her, ever again. He would be silent, and he would stay away. She would never have to think of him ever again.

God, he scratched at his neck. He felt so dramatic about it.

But, it was true. What happened tonight was as a result of his selfish actions. He should never have allowed himself to get too close to her, but...

She was the only girl who could see what he felt, and understand. She was beautiful, sweet, and funny. When she blushed, she was cute, and adoreable, and when she shied away, all he wanted to do was cuddle her. He fidgeted with his hands while he watched her.

She was perfect.

But, he was in a whole different world compared to her, and the difference between them set them apart.

He looked down at his hands, miserable, as his vision faded in and out. He could hear her start to come to now, her body rustling against the wooden floor. He clicked the lights on, and the brightness of it all had him yawn. God, he felt so tired now. Never had he ever felt so sleepy.

"Moose, where are you?" she whispered softly, rubbing her eyes as he looked up to her face. She was just about to answer her, when he thought better. He felt like closing his eyes and drifting off, and he stretched his body in agreement, as his being began to sliver in and out of reality.

_"I'll always be here, Camille,"_ he answered. _"I'll always be close, I promise."_

He faded out just as she caught sight of him, and he closed his eyes as the darkness, warm and comforting, enveloped him. He leant against it, feeling his clothes ripple against this darkness, like the touches of fingertips to water. He curled up, happy, content, ignoring the constant pang in his chest, the feeling that what he was leaving behind had breached him to the point of melancholy, a far off exclamation on a neverending sentence.

* * *

**A/N:** Thank you everyone for reviewing and favouriting this! I'm so glad you love my writing and that you like my style! I cant wait to see what you think of what happens next! Few more chapters to go, m'dears! XD

xoxoxox


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter Seven**

Camille stared into space just as Blake barked out her name. She shook her head when a hand swam into her vision. She yelped, and looked to see Andie, her concerned face tipping just enough to overwhelm her vision. Andie smiled softly, before pointing to the floor. The pump of music pounded in the background like a snaredrum and she started, realising she was supposed to step up and dance, like everyone else had.

She looked to Blake, before she mouthed her apologies. Blake sighed deeply, looking down at the clipboard he carried and writing something on it. Camille looked back down to the floor and fidgeted with her hands, uncomfortable and worried.

The speakers died down and the music pummelled out. Silence drowned the class as Blake explained something to the students, but Camille never listened. She was waiting for him to appear. All day, she had been waiting to feel his presence, but nothing ever came. There was no flicker of laughter in a pair of chocolate brown eyes, no mop of curls that seemed to tickle his cheek, and no dance moves that would put off any pro dancer. She was alone, and she felt scared for it.

Where was Robert?

She looked over her shoulder as the bell rang and the students filed out one by one. The dance hall was cleaned when she woke up, the lights had been turned back on, and there were no menacing shouts or overkilled music playing in the background. No darkened lights, no gloomy atmosphere, nothing. Moose had completely disappeared overnight, and he wasn't here at all.

He cleaned up the mess left behind by whoever they were, she knew. She didn't know how he done it, simply because he was a ghost, but he had done it, nonetheless. In fact, it looked cleaner than it usually did on Thursday evenings, which told her enough to know that what happened to Moose was as real as what had happened to her before those thugs broke into the school.

She gripped her hands and breathed slowly. That week, he was everywhere, speaking to her, getting to know her, even saving her from those boys who ganged up on her. He banged those lockers and got rid of them, he helped her to make friends, and showed her how to laugh, to grow, to have fun. He was a real guy. She remembered what happened when she touched him, the sound of the heart monitor, the sound of screams and the sight of bright lights.

He didn't know why he was in this school when he believed he should've been dead.

Her eyes widened as she felt someone tap her shoulder. "Wow, you're really out of it today," Andie piped up softly. "What's wrong? Is it this guy you were speaking so vibrantly about earlier last week?" Camille didn't answer, until she touched Andie's hand.

"I need to ring Tyler," she said gently, trying to shake her head. Andie sniffed, narrowing her eyes.

"What's going on?" she asked softly, "The guys are meeting up, and the Streets are coming up anytime now." Camille walked out of Andie's grip, shaking her head while staring at the floor.

"If I was to tell you, Andie, you really wouldn't believe me," she explained, before she clasped both of Andie's hands in her own. "But yes, it has to do with the guy who had choreographed all those dance moves I showed you on Monday, and- well- um-" She fished her phone out of her pocket as she spoke. "This guy, he's, he's very sick, and he doesn't know why," she looked through her contacts, trying to mull over the whole thing out loud.

"Who is sick?" she heard Chase say. She didn't realise the others had come in while she zoned out. She looked up to see the whole crew staring at her like she grew a pair of heads.

"A very, very good friend," she replied softly, before she found Tyler's number. It rang and rang, and all she could think was _Moose needs my help, he needs me, please answer, Tyler, please-_

"What's wrong with him?" Monster asked. He looked as worried as she did.

"He's disappearing," she whispered, and Missy cocked her eyebrow up.

"Well, if the guy's disappearing, maybe all he needs to do is make some friends," she replied, matter of factly. "Cant have someone fading into the background, now can we?"

"Camille! Is everything okay?" Tyler's voice rang out on loudspeaker. "What's up?"

"I need you to do me a big favour, Tyler. Just please, please don't question me on it," Camille replied. A picture of Moose's face came up, soft, happy, smiling. She remembered him laughing beside her as he danced, the invisible guy in the background while the whole crew practised and trained. She remembered all the faces he pulled while Blake tried to teach her a new move she hated so desparately. She remembered all those times they shared- the blush he had when he proclaimed she was cute, and then her answering blush when he asked her if she really thought he was sexy.

_"Can you see me?"_

Yes, she saw him, and she understood what he'd been trying to say this entire time. He was scared of being alone, of being lonely, yet through that sadness, he was always just as pleased when he saw she was enjoying herself-

_"Say yes, say yes, say yes!"_

She smiled when she recalled how overjoyed he was for her when she was accepted by these people. These were the people he wanted to get to know, these were the guys he liked, the ones who done their best with what they had, not with what they hadn't.

She knew he was afraid, frightened beyond all belief that he would always be a backdrop to someone else. But she also knew that he didn't want to move on to that someplace else. He was just as scared of being there, as he was of being here. In short, he just wanted to come home. He wanted to be _here_, among the living.

"Tyler, I need you to go to the local hospital," she informed him, "I need you to look for anyone who has been in a serious car accident by the name of Robert. Anyone who is on life support and is around seventeen." At the looks of shock and horror on all her friends faces, she shook her head. "I know it sounds weird, but you have to do it for me. Please do it, and I'll be there as soon as I can to help."

"Is there any reason as to why I'm doing this, Camille? Nora and I just got back from this tour and-"

"I'm begging you, Tyler. This is something you have to do," she replied, her voice pleading with as much sorrow as pain. "This is something I need you to do for me. He's a friend, but I don't know which hospital he's in, if he's even in this city." She sighed, running a hand through her hair, feeling a prick of tears come to her eyes. "I need help."

"You got it, kid. I'll ring you as soon as I hear news, 'kay?"

"Thanks, Tyler. Andie says hi," she added, before she cut the phone.

Missy watched her, before Kido put in, "I thought you said he disappearing?" She looked brokenly up to Kido, to all her friends, ebfore she felt her shoulders crumple in defeat and her eyes well up. She gasped and closed her eyes as she felt a stab of pain hit her heart. Tears slid down her cheeks as everyone came to wrap their arms around her.

"He is disappearing, he's been disappearing very slowly this entire time."

* * *

_**A/N:::**_Oh dear, where's the tissues? Thank you everyone for your reviews! I'd give each and every one of you a mountainload of cookies if I could afford it, but an air hug would have to do... *gives air hug*

xoxox


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter Eight**

Tyler tapped his finger against the counter as the recpetionist flicked through her records. Behind him, Nora stood, watching the same receptionist with the same expression. They were both worried for Camille. Whatever had possessed her to ring him like that obviously deserved attention, and concern. He all but ran to the local hospital, St Francis', and pummelled through the entrance doors with Nora fast on his heels, and as out of breath as he was, he managed to fill in the receptionist on what he needed to know. She cocked an eyebrow at him, a curiously dangerous expression on her face.

"If he's on life support, no-one besides family is allowed to see him," she warned, her eyes as sharp as needles. Tyler gazed back at her, a calm mask overcoming his sudden need to lash at her.

"I understand, ma'am. All we want to know is if a guy by the name of Robert is in this hospital on life support after a serious car accident." She continued to watch him, not straying anywhere near her keyboard to check for him. Nora stepped up from behind him.

"Please, we need to know. A friend of ours had just found out that he may be dying, and she never heard the news he was in a car crash in the first place until she arrived home with us after being overseas," she looked heartbrokenly to the receptionist. "She's already in St Mark's across the city trying to find out where he is, as no-one bothered to tell her."

A spark twinkled in the receptionist's eye, and she sighed. "Be that as it may, she will not be allowed to see him, even if he is in this hospital." Regardless, she tapped away at the computer, her eyes glued to the screen, as the hustle and bustle of the entrance doors opened and frantically closed with arrivals and departures. Tyler turned his head to watch them, children, mothers, families, the homeless, carted in on gurneys, or walking out with a smile, or a creased look of concern on their faces.

He sighed, slowly beginning to catch his breath. Nora folded her arms and watched the sights with him, and they both started when they heard the receptionist call them over.

"There are two Robert's in this hospital, both in on life supports," she said simply. "One Robert Phillips, a fifty year old who came in last week." Tyler shook his head, knowing Camille would never ring him if it was someone like that, as heartless as it sounded. It felt more like she made a connection with this mysterious guy, whoever he seemed to be. The receptionist nodded her head in reply, before saying, "And there is a Robert Alexander, in here since five months ago. Brought in after a serious motor accident involving three cars," she stopped as she read the file onscreen.

Tyler pushed himself forward on the counter he leaned on, and Nora looked at the receptionist with an anxious face. "I'm afraid he's going to be taken off life support," she said simply. "He hasn't woken up since he was brought in here, and with the severity of his injuries, the doctors decided to close down his case. It's so sad," she added, a tear coming to her seemingly stern face. "It says here, he managed to save a little girl by jumping in front of the cars as they came for her."

Tyler stopped. He felt a shiver of something slide down his spine. He thought of Camille, and knew. He _**just**_ knew. This was the guy she was talking about.

The receptionist looked up to him, a wish in her eyes that what they heard had nothing to do with them. "Is that your guy?" Tyler looked to her, looked right into her eyes, and nodded wordlessly.

That would be the kind of guy Camille would be worried about. No, he shook his head. Not worried, downright terrified for.

He pulled out his phone and swallowed. He looked to Nora, who carried the face of an angel who'd lost all that she ever wanted. God, he was so lucky to have her. She put a hand on his shoulder, resisiting the urge to cry for his sister. He dialled her number, and waited for her answer before he told her what she needed to know.


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter Nine**

She stopped as she listened to her brother fill her in on the news. Around her, the crew wavered between talking and dancing, but everyone had their attention on her. Her face fell as she continued to listen to Tyler speak, and the tears came to her eyes as she continued to listen.

"Does that sound like the person you mentioned, Camille?" he asked slowly, his voice deep and rich through the speaker. She chuckled as she cried.

"No wonder he never told me his full name," she blubbered, trying to hold back the frenzy that fought with knives inside her chest. She breathed out as her friend's gathered around her, hands on her back and shoulders as she heard soothing voices tap her down.

"He's about to be taken off life support, Camille. I don't know when, or if it has already happened, but you need to think of it this way: he's in a better place now, right?"

"Yeah, but I just wish I got the chance to know him better," she murmured, her eyes waltzing through the silent dance hall, where he usually always was now that she made friends. This was her fault. She should've run for it when she heard them come, or she should've screamed bloody murder and threatened the cops were on their way when they had broken in.

That whole mess was the reason he was so silent. The fact that he really was about to cross over was the reason why he'd forgotten to show up. It was his way of leaving, of saying goodbye.

_"I wish I could have that. That friendship, that belief that you can always be counted on, that no matter what, you're there for them, that you're real."_

_"I think it's cute"_

_"Please, just go home."_

_"How do you know that, when I've got __**nowhere**__ to go to?"_

She clicked the phone off, her heart not interested in doing anything anymore. That boy had left something inside of her, and now he was about to die. He was never dead in the first place: he was drifting between one place and the next, and now he-

Her shoulders slumped and she looked to the ceiling, the tears streaking down her cheeks. Without a word of warning to the others, she left them. She ran to the corridor, and looked up to the arch, where she first saw him, and then down to the locker, where he saved her. She continued to walk, all the way to the bottom of the hall, before she took a left and went down to the bathrooms.

"I wish you'd come out," she whispered. "I just want to see you." She tumbled through the school, her hands flying wildly out around her as she blundered through hall after hall, but nowhere could she feel his presence. Was he really already gone? "I really need you, Robert."

It was getting dark outside, and the lights were off in the halls. It was silent, deadly, and it transformed her, made her feel lonely. Was this what he felt all these months as he rested here, wandering the halls? Did he really feel so alone? He stayed between the students and their lives, and the world outside, where he couldn't venture. While she didn't know why the barrier was between him and the outside world, she did know that here he was safe, and he was trapped.

He danced in the background, he watched from the shadows. He was everywhere in this school, and yet he was never seen by anyone else, except her. She clasped her elbows, searching, wondering, waiting for a feeling, something that was him.

"I miss you, you dolt," she commented to herself, feeling the tears well up in her. "I miss you, and you aren't even dead, Robert Alexander. I want you to come back, please, just one last time, and I want to tell you that I think I love you." She stood in the silence between one corridor and another, hearing nothing but the faint sound of her breathing.

She felt so cut off from everywhere else, and it terrified her. This was how he felt all this time, and no-one was there for him. Why didn't she see him earlier? Why didn't she see him five months ago? Did it have something to do with this being his last few days here on earth? She shook her head, at a complete loss. She shivered, and sighed, her voice as soft as the melody of music she wished to hear, the one unique melody that was, of course, _his_ voice.

"I love you, Robert. I love you, Moose, and I wish we could've met, in the real world, or even up there," she looked up to the ceiling, wondering if somehow her voice would reach him, wherever he was. "I wish we could've been together, having fun and making up silly dances together." She sat down on the steps of a stairway as she had turned another corridor, lost in the maze of the darkened school.

"I would've liked to have touched you, you know," she said, a minor blush raising itself up her cheeks as she gripped her hands. "I would've loved to have felt your heartbeat, right under my hand. But even without it," she shook her head, "I would just be happy to be beside you, even if you were a ghost."

She heard nothing, and felt stupid speaking to the quiet. It felt weird, being in the school all by herself, waiting for the boy who would never come again. She smiled, before she said, "Goodnight, Robert Alexander. Sweet dreams."

* * *

**A/N::** God, I feel like an awful writer, just doing that... and feeling no remorse, until now... T.T Well, it's not over... hmmm, all the angst to come! God, I love angst, I love depression and sadness, and I'm terribly sorry if I sound like a horrible person...

Love you all, guys, and thank you so much for the reviews!

xoxox


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter Ten**

A week had passed, and nothing was mentioned about the Streets. The guys were still practising, still dancing, but it looked like as if the life had all but disappeared from each move they made, and they didn't understand why. Andie and Chase became more and more frustrated, and Cable disjointedly suggested they give up, that they weren't ready this year, but maybe next year. Smiles reluctantly agreed, and Kido began to twitch when Andie barked "Do it again" without any hesitation. They were going to dance. They were going to do it right.

Camille danced, but her footing became easily lost. She couldn't keep up with them, and apologised profusedly time and again when she tripped over Smiles' feet. Poor Smiles genuinely believed it was his fault, and she felt all the worse for it when his arms came around her and he begged forgiveness. She pardonned herself early more than once and left with tears brimming over her cheeks.

Even though she came to rehersals for the Streets, she felt it was the only remaining link between her, and _**him**_. And it broke her heart to see it all fall apart. With Moose there, everything went smoothly, and only when she came back after hearing the news about him last week, did she noice the truth. Even though Moose never met the crew in person, and he only acted in the shadows, for some reason, he was the glue that held the team together. Whenever he was there, the acts came together seamlessly. Each movement and each twist they performed, made each dance they done flawless and perfect.

Without Moose, the whole performance, and even the whole crew, came undone.

She sighed when she sat down on the ground, with all the others around her.

"Come on, Andie, we know we're screwed," Kido softly murmured, while she fiddled with her hair.

"We're falling out of sync, and for some reason, the dance wont come together," Cable commented, running a hand through his sweaty hair. He was breathless, much the same as Monster right next to him.

"We aren't giving up," Andie swore. "We are not giving up."

Each day would be the same, fiddling between curses and promises that this could be their last dance together. No one, it seemed, had the spirit anymore to fight, to dance. Even in the dance hall during classes, Blake began to notice their withdrawal, and shook his head sadly when Andie came out of the perfect pirhouette, only to fall onto one foot and crash to the floor as gracelessly as a bull.

Camille decided to focus on her studies, to try and better herself for her own sake. For some reason, she just couldn't stop thinking about him, her hands fidgeting between wanting to do something and wanting to hold her face as she cried. Tyler saw her breaking down whenever he passed her room, and always wanted to say something to her, as he stood in the doorway, but never once did he ever try.

He remembered what that felt like, to have your whole world thrown apart, and to wonder if it would ever sew itself back together. When Skinny died that night at the party, he remembered how his friend shunned him, and never went near him, that heartbroken expression on his face as clear as day. He recalled those hunched shoulders, the defeated expression on his face. It came to a time when he really considered that never in his life would he ever be able to speak to him again, not after what happened.

But things change, and he changed for the better.

Now, watching Camille, her tiny frame wired to the floor as she pored over her textbooks, that glassy look in her eyes, the tell-tale sign she'd just been crying, and her fingers fidgeting with her pen, Tyler saw himself sitting there, that same figure sitting as lonely as she was. His heart broke for her.

"If you ever want to talk about it," he said at another occasion, as Camille zoned out during dinner with their step-parents, "I'm here, 'kay?" She quietly nodded, and looked away from his eyes. There was too much concern in them, when there should've been more concern for the boy who died.

Again and again they practised in the dance hall, and again and again they dismally screwed up the steps. Andie finally gave up, sweat beading her face. She threw her hands up into the air and gave out a loud yell of pure anger. Cable jumped and Kido stepped back, her hands splayed wide and her expression so remorseful that Camille flinched.

"That's it! I give up! How the hell is this even happening to us?!"

Chase sighed and Camille took this one moment to speak up, feeling that small prick of sadness tip off her chest. "I'm sorry. This is my fault," she said softly. "I keep screwing it up for all of you, and I'm so sorry." She was about to get up, when Andie's hand flung out and tapped her wrist. When Camille looked into her eyes, there was a fire there, one that she herself didn't want to meddle with.

"Stay sitting," she said evenly. "This is not your fault. To be honest, maybe the Streets isn't for us this year." Everyone's faces fell as they heard what she said. Even Camille's.

What would Moose have said if he heard that?

He probably would've probably died.

Her eyes watered, and she gritted her teeth. Jesus, she had to stop thinking about him! She had to stop this, or else she would snap in two and go crazy. Her heart pounded with so much pain. When would it ever stop?! She rubbed at her eyes, just as everyone turned to see her.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, wondering if Moose could hear her. "I'm so sorry."

"I wish you'd stop beating yourself up, Chameleon."

* * *

_**A/N::**_Could it be?... Nah, it couldn't be! Could it?! Hmmm, guess we'll have to find out later... !

Gosh, doncha just love it when there's a cliffhanger? Thanks again to all of you who commented and told me you liked this! *gives air hugs, chocolate cakes, and mountains of hot chocolate... because she loves chocolate...*

xoxox


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter Eleven**

Robert remembered the flashing lights and the little girl as she stood in front of that car. It was raining relentlessly, and he remembered his mum wanted him to go buy her something from the chemists. He couldn't recall exactly what it was, only that she needed it, and being the ever-helpful son,he wandered out onto the drowning streets to go get it for her. Water sloshed through his ears and blurried his vision, but even with eyes closed, he knew his way to the centre of the city.

The streets were busy, traffic blaring through pedestrain crossings and red lights. People were walking past him, as he dug his hands into his pockets and kept his face down. It was only when he reached the fifth corner on the journey to the chemists that he heard the boom of panicked horns. He jumped and looked up ahead to see a girl with black hair and carmel skin standing right in the centre of the road, her hands splayed up in front of her, her mouth opened in a silent scream.

There was a moment, a clear second, when he saw her body flash before his, her small frame crash through the bumper of the car, before she rolled up onto the windscreen and crumble onto the roof of the car. She would roll faster and faster, before she would fly through the air and fall, crumpled, onto the ground.

It wasn't nice. Blood would fly everywhere from the millions of cuts she would gain, and the blood would mix with the clear liquid of the water that still fell from the sky.

He didn't think, because he knew thinking wouldn't save her. He just jumped and pushed her out of the line of traffic, before he collapsed onto the ground and felt the sickening crunch of his head smacking gravel and the searing, unsweltering heat that rose from all across his body.

He remembered there not being one car, but two, and he remembered hearing crashes, sounds that he didn't normally hear on his usual walk into the city. He remembered the sound of an animal, keening and screaming into the skies above, pulling himself forward before being rocketed back. Like flowers, pain and agony bloomed through his body in places he didn't recall being anywhere near the car that ran over him. He didn't know. Maybe there was another car. He couldn't tell. He was so confused. And it hurt so much.

"Sophie!" someone screeched at the top of their lungs. "Sophie!"

Was that her name? He didn't know. He didn't want to know. He just wanted the pain to stop. To end. To finish. He breathed, but the air wasn't going to his lungs. He choked on water and thought he was drowning. He tried to open his eyes but they were like sand and refused to stay open. He saw stars, blinding lights, flashes of white.

He thought he may have seen God.

But somewhere, somewhere quiet, he thought he also heard a silent, "Thank you."

He thought he breathed his last.

Until he opened his eyes and saw a classroom full of students with the sudden thought that this was MSA. He was dizzy, disorientated and scared. No one could see him, and no-one could hear him. He fell down onto the floor and closed his eyes.

Robert opened his eyes and heard her voice as he dreamt. He was drifting through space, and the voices that came and went sounded an awful lot like the guys from the MSA crew. He wanted to reach out and see if Camille was among them, but he was too sleepy and he just wanted to continue dreaming. He felt he'd finally found out who he was, and he was finally at peace for it.

He was happy, content now, and he didn't have to worry over her anymore. His friends, the ones he'd never met in person, would keep her safe. They'd make sure she was happy.

Until he heard her crying.

Until he heard her speak in the deafening silence of the halls of MSA.

Until he heard her say _"I love you."_

He listened to her, and fought against the bonds that caged him. How desparately he wanted to see her again. How badly he wished to cease her crying and tell her he was okay, that he was happy, that he was finally _free._

_"I would've liked to have touched you, you know. I would've loved to have felt your heartbeat, right under my hand... Goodnight, Robert Alexander. Sweet dreams."_

His name. Robert Alexander. She knew who he was. He started and fought again, unwrapping the tight coils around his body, enclosing his mind. _No!_ he thought against them. _No! Camille!_ He stabbed at anything that came too close for comfort and twisted against anything black that made him blind. He didn't want this. He wanted her. He wanted all of _her._

He grunted and kicked.

He pushed and shoved.

He sweated and screamed.

_"Goodnight, Robert Alexander. Sweet dreams"_

_**No!**_

He turned against it all.

_**Dammnit**_!

He didn't care if he never breathed again. He didn't care if he had to spend his entire afterlife in that school. He didn't care if he was only here because he was on life support in some far off hospital he didn't know where.

He wanted her.

He wanted to sit beisde her and make up silly dances with her, and joke with her and call her nick-names. He wanted to feel her hand under his and smile with her whenever she done something funny or cute.

He wanted her.

He wanted to protect her and shleter her. He wanted to show her his own dance moves and cheer for her all the way from MSA while she battled in the Streets.

He wanted to be her friend.

_"I love you, Robert."_

He gritted his teeth and opened his eyes to the sounds of rushing nurses and a frantic doctor. He opened his eyes to the surprise of finding no heart monitor working and a whole rush of pain up his spine. He opened his eyes to the needles that snaked through his body, and duvets around his bed hiding all the bandages and drips that seemed to envelop the bed in white.

But most of all, he opened his eyes with the knowledge that she was waiting for him out there.

* * *

**A/N::**Heh! I wonder what happens next? Will Camille and Moose be reunited? Will a challenge face them? Will there be a happily ever after? X*

xxx


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter Twelve**

She looked up slowly through parted fingers, not believing for a second that what she heard was real. The tears she cried patterned tracks down her face and she felt her heart skip a beat in response to his voice. She glanced at her friends, who stared at her with open mouths. Missy stabbed the air behind her, and she felt her voice escape her within a second at the thought that they could-

She looked over her shoulder to see a familiar, shy smile. A flicker of brown curls, tangled and unruly against a smiling set of eyes, and a hand placed on his chin as he watched her, kneeling behind her with a twinkle of a grin on his face.

He was there, not faded, but actually there. His body stood out against the backdrop of mirrors and wooden floors, slim and small, a checked shirt loosely tied around wiry arms and a pair of loose trousers framing his figure. He kneeled awkwardly, and as soon as she turned to stare at him, within seconds, he grimaced, and set himself down on the floor uneasily, like it hurt him to sit.

"Hiya, Cammie," he cheerfully said, his voice softening on her nickname. He grinned childishly when she continued to remain speechless. "I know, I'm so dang hot, girls cant speak when they so much as look at me." It as if the past few days hadn't happened, and he'd forgotten everything that led up to this moment.

It was as if they were meeting for the first time.

"You're really here," she whispered. "You're real." He nodded sheepishly, shrugging his shoulders.

"I came back, I guess," he answered. He took a second, a breathtaking second, before he murmured, "I came back because I heard your voice." Camille stared at him, and he saw those tears, the countless ones she cried for him. It made him kick himself for taking so long to find her again. His parents held him back, these injuries held him back, and his back still ached after all these months.

He shouldn't have been here, he knew. After all this time not moving, his muscles were not as strong as they used to be. Heck, he couldn't pop or lock or dance at all after all this time. But he knew he would be able to fight for what he believed was his saving grace. He watched her, allowed his eyes to dwell on her face, because now he knew he was able to do this, to do anything he wanted, all for her, because he was real. Because he was no longer an invisible shadow.

He leaned forward, biting his lip against the tug of aching in his side as he did so, and placed a hand on her cheek knowingly. He took a breath, pushing the moment before he said what he'd wanted to say for the past week.

"I heard everything you wanted to tell me, Camille," he whispered as they sat on the floor, their legs touching each others, their eyes boring into each others as deep as day, as dark as night. He remembered being in this school all this time, wondering why he'd been placed here, so far from home, on the other side of the city. He wondered why here, of all places, he'd be left to wander idly until he was taken off life support, when it dawned on him as clear as glass.

It was her. Someone, up there, saw them, and wished for them to meet. She was the reason he was in this school all this time. All these months, these agonising days, spent here, all working their way up to this, this one moment, this one breath in time.

He smiled as he came closer to her, as he pulled her gently toward her. "I've been waiting for someone this entire time, to come and undo the chains, Camille. I've been waiting for you this whole time, for you to wake me up and make me move," he murmured against her cheek as she leaned in, her breath hitching against his nose. "Thank you so much, Camille. Thank you for opening my eyes," he whispered into her ear, his breath tickling her, and making her pull back some. She looked into his eyes then, and he saw what lingered there.

That hope, flashing before him as bright as the sun.

"I love you too, Camille," he tipped his nose against hers, and without any warning, he felt a hand come upon his chest and dig deep, craving the steady pound she found there, just beneath the surface. Her hand burned through his clothes and he leaned forward just as she leaned down, and he kissed her, soft and gentle.

It was exactly how she imagined he'd kiss. Gentle, sweet, and soft, and he cradled her face with the lightest of touches, gently carressing her face with the sweetest of grins on his face. He breathed against her, and felt her move closer against him, wanting more of this nearness, this knowledge that no matter what, they were real together: they were solid and nevermoving.

He felt it then, the warning light he'd been waiting for all these months.

He was home.

She giggled against his lips as she began to cry again, unbeliveable happiness bubbling inside her as strong as a fountain, as light as a feather. He chuckled against her lips, his eyes shining.

"Um, lovebirds? What have we got here?"

Camille looked up to Missy, and seeing her shocked expression, she laughed again, unconsciously pushing herself down off Robert, who winced. He set a hand down on the floor behind him to steady himself and began to stand. Camille looked back to him, her eyes wide.

"I'm sorry, did I hurt you?"

"Nope, Chameleon, now stop worrying and introduce me to your friends. I've never met them before," he dusted himself off as she climbed to her feet. There was a glimmer there, a white lie surfacing from darknened depths, but she shook her head and forgot all about it. Gesturing to the group, she introduced them one by one. "Hm, and you guys are the ones practising for the Streets, right?"

"Can we ask who you are first before you go asking questions?" Monster folded his arms.

"Chill, Monster, he's a friend of Camille's. We can trust him," Chase said in answer. Robert smiled, pocketing his hands.

"I think I was the one who choreographed that part Camille helped put into the dance off you're doing," he answered easily, sticking his hand out for Monster to shake. "My name is Robert Alexander the Third. But, you can call me Moose."

"Moose?" Kido exclaimed. "Moose?! Where did you get that name?"

He rolled his eyes, grinning. "It's a very long story."

"You done the choreography? Jeez, man, that was mindblowing!" Smiles started, just as Cable rushed up to him and grinned wickedly.

"Can you do it again?" he asked, stars in his eyes. "Camille said you could do it a lot better." Moose laughed, and shook his head.

"I can try, but-" his smile seemed to fade, as he gripped his side. "I kind of got into a serious accident, and my back hasn't healed properly. I'm wearing a brace to try and right it, but I can try to do it again. In fact," he scratched the back of his neck. "You guys get going. Show me what you got."

Everyone looked to each other, and Camille understood exactly what he was trying to do. He was giving them a reason to move, one they unconsciously never had before.

"We decided to quit it," Hair said softly, his arms coming up to sheepishly hand around his chest. He was looking at the floor.

"Quit what?"

"The Streets," Andie explained. She put both ehr hands on her hips just as Missy looked to her. "We aren't able to keep the momentum going, for some weird reason or another. Somehow, last week, we were blazing it, now-" she gestured widly as if to emphasise her point. Moose watched her carefully, his mouth open, before he looked to everone else, their downcast expressions, their faceless sorrow, and he suddenly understood.

He understood everything, and he stepped back with the recognition.

"Oh my God," he breathed, with shock. While everyone believed it was due to their stepping down from the Streets, only Camille understood what he really meant.

"You see? Even when you weren't there, you were still alive," she murmured as she stood on tip toe to whisper into his ear. "You made them dance. You made them happy, and without you, were bascially screwed." He held out his hand for her to take, and he squeezed it softly in acknowledgement. But he still couldn't believe it. It strangled him to believe what he'd done.

"Well then," he swallowed, breathing out. "I suppose you don't think you're good enough."

It was an unspoken challenge. Andie looked up to him, cocking an eyebrow, as did Chase.

"You serious? We worked hard for this," Andie spoke evenly, the threat in her voice.

"You sure? You really do give up easily," he answered, on the ball and quick. "The whole lot of you do, but I suppose I understand the feeling. I gave up easily too, before I saved someone, and then someone saved me in return." Andie watched him, her face expressionless, her eyes speaking more. She wanted to be determined, and he knew beyodn a shadow of a doubt that she was the only one keeping the confidence in the group. He stared at her, allowed his own determination to speak for the both of them.

"You can do this, you know that, Andie," he said, strongly. "Everyone who is anyone can dance. You just need to keep getting back up when you fall down, and you just need to fight and keep fighting even when you know you're going to lose. Don't ever forget that."

She huffed, ebfore she heard Kido jump at what he said, a big smile on her face. "Come on, guys! Let's show this Moose what we can do!" Slowly, everyone slumped to the centre of the dancefloor, not entirely sure of what they could do when they honestly had nothing. Moose rolled his eyes, and clicked silently, hoping something nice would come on, something that wasn't anything Street related.

All of a sudden, and without warning to the otehrs, a blast of _Fancy Footwork _blared out of the speakers, the sirens of the music singing and coming to life. Andie stared at the Player, and Camille looked to him.

_Bright lights-_

Moose twisted onto the floor, gnoring the pain in his back, and started to dance, ignoring the world around him as he tried to pop and lock against the timing of the music he heard. He moved to the side and laughed as his feet found a beat he could move to without causing too much pain. He jerked sideways again, and moved his hands in an irrational manner, pushing his body to its limits, knowing that he'd work himself up and push himself as far as he could. He knew he had Camille cheering him on.

He couldn't let her down.

He pulled himself out of a tight circle and reached out, pointing to her. Someone started to cheer- Kido probably, and Camille joined in, jumping and pumping to the beat as she curved her body against the song. Moose moved around her just as she reached out and laughed, grabbing his open hands and pulling him into loose waltz.

As if they knew what the other would do, they both turned opposite to each other and pointed to Hair, just as the next song rolled in to play _Let's Go._ Both Hair and Cable looked to each other before they shrugged and jumped in to do what they done best. Moose pushed a hand up into the air as he pumped his body to the beat, the infectious beat that had everyone up and dancing as if their lives depended on it. Everyone jumped, screamed and suddenly, moved as one.

They tipped off each other, but they laughed as they done it, and unconsciously, people parted into groups of two or three and began to copy each other's movements in canon, following exactly what Camille and Moose done as they moved and moved and moved to the rhythm they'd been waiting for this entire week. Moose panted against Camille's body and felt himself getting dizzy as everyone crunched bar out for bar, and breathed as frantically as they moved and worked the music they heard blaring over the speakers.

Before the song even finished, Moose crashed to the floor, clutching his side in pain, his eyes wired shut.

He'd never felt as happy as he did now.

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_**A/N::**_N'awwwwhhhh! XD Well, what do you guys think? I believe there are another three chapters to add to this, so I'll upload a little later on, and thanks a bunch for all the reviews and favs! I love you all so much! x/x

xxxxx


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter Thirteen**

"I cant believe it, really. I just cant believe it," Andie breathed slowly as she clutched her side against the stitch that bloomed there. Everyone was bent over and laughing as they sweated out the past hour's harsh work. Chase shook his head and looked in wonder to Moose, who sat uncomfortably in the corner, his hand pressed to the side of his stomach.

"You okay over there, Moose?" Moose nodded on the spot, looking up from the ground, a sleepy but content smile on his face. He breathed out in gasps, but he felt so alive. He felt like his nerve-endings were given a new lease of life, and each breath-taking step he made with the crew, each moment he turned and twisted, swerved and sweated, he felt alive. He felt like nothing could stop him. He felt invincable.

Hair came to sit beside him, followed by Cable, Smiles, and then the rest of the team. Moose pulled his head back and rested it against the wall. He sounded like he was choking, but he was laughing.

"I never thought I'd ever dance again," he said to himself. "Not like this."

"What do you mean, man? Jeesh, you went crazy!" Smiles laughed. It was easy, he reflected, how they couldn't and wouldn't understand. They never would. He smiled, looking to Camille, who shrugged her shoulders and mirrored his smile.

"I guess when I slipped into the coma, I guess a part of me wondered if I'd ever fully wake up again. Wake up and dance," he added softly.

"Coma?" Missy started.

"Um, yeah. I was in a car accident. I saved a girl's life by jumping in front of a car and pushing her out of the way," he answered simply. He splayed his hands wide and looked to the floor, feeling the metal of the brace dig against his skin. "God, I'm going to feel that later on," he added as he jerked himself off the wall, rubbing his back. Wordlessly then, he got up off the floor. He looked to Andie, whose face remained stuck in an expression of wonder as she watched him.

"You saved a little girl?"

The blush crept up his cheeks, and he looked down to the wooden floor. "Yeah, but let's not-"

"Well done man," someone tapped him on the shoulder, a welcoming, warm gesture that left Moose stunned and still. He knew it was Chase before he even turned his head.

"Thanks," he managed to say. His mum and dad didn't say that when he woke up. In fact, they were so glad he was awake, that they never bothered to tell him about the other girl, the one who cried as soon as he fell brokenly onto the wet pavement that day all those months ago.

Her name was Sophie, and she was a pretty little thing. Wide eyes and a beautiful smile. When she visited the hospital the day after he woke up, she clambered into the bed he slept in and with a childlike innocence she smiled and told him stories of the angels that visited her the day she almost died. It was so sweet of her, that he couldn't resist hugging her when she had to leave. Of course, he wondered about the angels, and whether she may have seen him, not as he lay on the pavement, but as a spirit or ghost as he fell out of his body.

The things children saw when they knew nothing evil of the world were what shook him to the core, and he wanted to believe she saw someone with wings, not someone like him, someone who on that day, survived as a ghost and not as an angel.

His parents never told him how proud they were of him, for jumping in front of a car in order to save a child's life. But these people, they were proud of him, their eyes shone in awe. He shook his head and his hands.

"Guys, really, please stop, its-" he scratched his neck as he heard Smiles say-

"Dude, thats not nothing. You saved someone's life, someone who is grateful and happy now."

"Yeah, I suppose were going to have to do something as heroic as that to get the girl's attention," Hair jokingly said, and Moose stopped, his eyes wide in horror. He opened his mouth and stared at Hair.

"Don't ever do what I did, please, just don't," he suddenly said, his heart pounding and his vision blurring. "Please, don't do it." Hair closed his mouth, the joke gleaming out of them. Everyone stared, and the silence errupted between all of them as cleanly as a volcano exploding from within. "When I done it, I fell into a sleep and I dreamt of things, crazy things. I thought I was dead and I believed I was alone, scarily alone. I thought no-one would hear me, and that I would never be seen by anyone ever again. I truly believed I was the only person in the world surrounded by others, and I had no voice, no say in anything that happened."

Was it really only just a week ago when he woke up? He never felt like it was that short distance away.

"You wouldn't understand, and I never want you to. But it's a scary place, and it's terrifyingly lonely, to be in one place, and to never move, to never speak to anyone, and to think you're a nobody."

"But you aren't Moose," Camille spoke soflty. "You aren't a nobody, and you never will be." She walked toward him, and clasped his hands in hers. He turned his face down to her.

"Of course, not with you there to remind me each and every time I doubt," he murmured, nuzzling her hair.

"Moose, you're one cool guy," Kido said simply, folding her arms. "I really like you, and you moves." He chuckled in acknowledgement.

"Yeah, you have sick moves and a wicked sense of humour, and dude, I only know you an hour," Monster said. "I can tell we're going to be great friends, no matter what happens in the Streets."

"The Streets?" Moose questioned. "Heh, were going to _**win**_ the Streets."

Everyone clapped, and he tilted his head down to Camille, watching them as they partied their own little freestyle session. He leaned against the wall, never letting go of her hand, and continued to watch them with sleepy eyes. He was tired after the long day. He closed his eyes softly and listened to the music as it bounced over everyone's heads.

"Did you really hear me when I talked in the corridors?"

He opened his eyes and chuckled. "I heard everything you said. It was what woke me up in the first place, I think," he added, whispering against the loud music. "If I didn't hear your voice, I would never have come back. But when you spoke, I felt like I was leaving everything I ever wanted behind, and I kept thinking about how you looked when you collapsed, and how those creeps tore up the dance hall."

"I knew they done something, but I couldn't remember what exactly. I just remember-"

"The pain and the dizziness and the wanting to be far far away from me," Moose answered, gripping her hand before he let her go. "Look, Camille, I love you," he looked into her eyes, those brown orbs digging as deep as they could go. "I love how you make it easy, how good I feel when I'm with you. You're shy and smart, you dance like the whole world is watching and you have to show them who is boss. You're sweet and caring of others, especially when I felt I couldn't help, and that I was nothing more than a pain. _**You saw me**_," he added, "When no-one else did. I just wanted you to know that I love you, and that I never meant to cause you pain, back then-" he disjointedly stopped and looked down at his hands.

"I just felt like everything was passing my fingertips, and the noise that came whenever I touched you-"

"I wonder why that was," she noted. "I wonder why you could only hear it and see it when you touched me." He looked knowingly into her eyes, a small smile on his lips.

Shyly, he said, "I think it was because back then, I was beginning to fall in love with you." Her eyes twinkled in response.

"All the way back then?"

"Yeah, from the first second I saw you, on the arch, all I wanted to do was talk to you and-" he felt embarrassed, and so he hedged his head away from her line of sight. Immediately, she shook her hands.

"What?! Is there something wrong?!"

"-I wanted to kiss you," he finished quietly, the colour red seeping up through his clothes. "I wanted to touch you and feel how real you were. I just wanted to be with you." Camille stopped and stared at this shy Moose, his shoulders tight with embarrssment and his eyes looking everywhere but at her. "I wanted to feel how falling in love would feel, but between two people who were exactly the same, where there was no difference, no powers from high above preventing us from being together."

"Moose..."

"Hm?" he looked at her, the question in his eyes, not fading with the easy blush on his cheeks.

"You really feel that way? About me? About us?"

"Yeah. Is it wrong to feel yourself fall for someone you never knew before?" he started, his mouth trying to follow the words he was trying to make up, his hands twirling through the air as he aimed for the words to describe how he felt. Camille smiled, putting her hand on his cheek, followed by the other, as she cradled him within her palms.

"I think it's perfectly normal to fall for someone within the first second of meeting them. It's happened to more people than you'd think."

"I just- I just don't want to lose you simply because I cant stop-"

"I don't think anyone could stop, even if they tried their best," she whispered, looking at him in a new light. She felt she knew everything about him, and that somehow, they were meant to be. No matter how it ended, their meeting, their friendship, was meant to be. She leaned up toward him, and softly, like an angel's caress, she kissed him.

He closed his eyes against her, and melted right into her.

She was right. He couldn't stop loving her. He genuninely couldn't.

He breathed against her, tickling her, and she smiled. "It feels right, to be like this," she commented.

"It feels like it was meant to be," he replied, leaning against her, and filling his palm with a handful of her hair, combing his fingers through it like it was sand. He gathered her into a hug, feeling his heart pump with the happiness he never thought he'd ever have ever again.

Everyone cat-called and hooted against them, and they smiled together. Her heart raced against his chest, and she wondered if he could feel it, racing right next to his.

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_**A/N:::**_N'awww, more mushy stuff! x/X Thank you everyone for your reviews and thoughts, I'm so glad you're still interested in this piece, and want to keep reading! X3

xxx


	14. Epilogue

**Epilogue**

His heart pounded like the bass beats and the speaking of the turntable as the darkness shimmered like glass around him. He was terrified, but he had to do this. He listened to the music as it reverbed throughout the whole of the crowd that had gathered to see the MSA crew. You could feel it in your chest if you stopped to listen, you could feel the excitement in the air if you closed your eyes and sniffed, you could sense the smiles and the cheers from the audience if you just looked to the sky as it poured buckets.

He moved like liquid, like water, and he shuffled his feet like they were nothing but an extention of his body. He turned and twisted when he heard the breathy rasps of air that flowed through the overhead speakers, and marvelled at the sheer nervousness he felt as he used his friends like they were nothing but small waves on the ground, making them move with nothing but a glance and a flicker of his hand.

It was funny, he thought, as he turned against them. It was funny, how their drive to dance in this competition came directly from him, and his want to be real, his want to be a human being again. It was funny when he saw them move for him, as that was what they had been doing all these weeks. They were dancing simply because they needed him to, and so he controlled them, he controlled them like they were nothing but dolls.

They obeyed everything he done, with nothing but a bow to his name, a permission from their bodies to collapse on the ground.

He saw Camille smile as she paired herself off with him, and they moved as if they were one being. He breathed against her, she reached her hands up against him. This was where everything changed between them and the rest of the group. This was his chance to allow both himself and her to shine.

He moved against her, and turned himself away from her, just as he flicked his fingers to the music coming from the back of the car. He saw it clearly in his mind, he wondered if she did too.

Something cracked and fizzled out, and the dancing around him stopped. He asked the guys if he could do this, without her knowing, and they agreed wholeheartedly. Andie smiled and laughed when she heard what Moose suggested, nodding her head wildly, and grabbing Chase by the hand just as he agreed Camille was one lucky girl to have a wild, curly hair kid suggest the dance he wanted to do.

Camille didn't know.

She stopped just as everyone bowed out from the dance around her, and she looked over her shoulder, temporarily scared, as the audience stopped cheering and looked to the guy who mastered the Player at his car. He shrugged, indicating the CD was still playing, and suddenly, a new song cracked through the speakers, like an olden time jazz piece that hadn't been played in a long time. Camille looked at him, as he held out his hand, a playful bow accompanying his exaggerated gesture.

_"I wont dance, don't ask me-"_

She laughed and put her hand into his just as he swerved her into a backbend. Through his hands, she fell and cartwheeled backwards into the spilts, her hands coming up to meet his, her face facing the ground. He pulled her light body up just as he twirled her like a ballet dancer, around and around, just as he pulled her down into a dramatic bow. She held her hands out around them, before she tricked herself into slipping through his arms sideways, and down onto the ground below them.

It was complete on-the-spot dancing. They never rehearsed the music, they never went over any of the steps, but somehow, their movements mirrored the dance they were doing, their acrobatics and streetstyle perfect against the jazzy accompaniment.

She twirled just as he started into a tap dance number, and she copied him in canon, her hands splayed wide and her smile as bright as the sun. She walked away from him, just as fell back, propping his feet to keep him grounded, as she cartwheeled over his body.

Everyone was clapping and cheering, but they were faraway, lost in the sea of water and lithe movements that seemed so strong and vibrant, so colour and beautiful to him, that the world of darkness and grey just fell away, leaving only them, only what they could do with what they had, leaving them to make out the truth and speak those forgotten lies.

He twisted against her as she began a quirky foot movement, and he watched her, before he copied her, and they fell into the dance again, moving to a beat only they could trace, as the lines of music fell away around them. He grabbed her hand, and against her knowledge, twirled and twirled her dizzingly through the air, before taking her into the most dramatic bow he could ever make with his arms, the water soaking their skin, making them fall to the earth just as they flew to the heavens. She bowed over him, and without any warning, just as everyone fell back into position and continued their chant, he kissed her, a deep kiss that spoke volumes through the music. She chuckled against him, holing her hand up to his chest, where the beating of his heart could be found.

He twirled her out of the lock they were in, and they separated, turning to their places just as they heard the beginnings of _Spitfire_ come into action, and they charged into the piece, their movements becoming more erractic as the finale loomed.

Cable and Monster fought against each other in robotic movements, their spotlight piece coming into fruition just as Andie and Chase followed them out onto the floor and moved with the breath-like motion Moose suggested, only this was more rough, more like it was meant to be painful. They launched into the last part of the dance, and roughly jerked to the side with the force of lions.

And even though he knew they hadn't done their finale yet, he just knew beyind a shadow of a doubt, that they'd won.

He could feel it in the air, stronger than the excitement, stronger than the nervouesness, stonger than the screams and cheers.

He looked over his shoulder to see Camille smile toward him, the shock of what they ahd done clearly evident on her face, and he grinned widely. He laughed, feeling the elation ripple through his body like the millions of droplets of water that pelted against his heavy and drenched clothes.

It was like slow motion, as they pumped their hands into the air, and swerved through the rain, slicing the drops in two as they pounded their way through the dance.

It was like breathing again, waking up to the reality that no matter how tough life was, it was real, it was cruel and it was as menacing as the unknown.

It was the truth of knowing that no matter how tough it got, there was always someone there, waiting for you, telling you that you were never alone in the first place.

It was the dream of waiting your whole life to find that person, the one who would make all the nightmares and the pain go away, the one who would hold out their hands and tell you to take them, that she had been waiting for you her whole life as well.

It was the knowledge of knowing that you had finally let her, of finally throwing your belief and your hopes and dreams to the sky in the hope that saving someone would eventually mean being saved in return.

The buckets of rain above all of them continued to swallow the ground around them in rivers and as soon as they finished their dance, he pulled his hand out and tugged her to him, not forcefully, but meaningfully, letting her body become pliant against his as he let his lips kiss hers in the hope that never again will he ever feel that loneliness, that want to fall away into nothingness.

How could he?

She would always be there to steady him if he faltered, just as she was doing right now, by placing both her hands on his chest and craving the heat that she found nestling there. She peeked up into his dark brown eyes, and finally found the sheephish grin carved there. He closed his eyes and laid his forehead against hers, feeling peace and finding solace where she found it best.

Between them.

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_**A/N::**_Aaaaand, there we go folks! Here's the ending, and cue the waterworks... T.T

Thank you everyone for your kind-hearted thoughts: I really appreciate them, and without all of you, this story would never have continued! Your kindness fills me with joy, ^_^

xxxxxxx


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